


Lessons We Learned

by Lazydesk



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, Yuri is smol and angry, Yuri learns how to be an adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:18:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9157855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazydesk/pseuds/Lazydesk
Summary: Love didn’t come easily for him like it did for people like Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov. Yuri had been abandoned more than once, he wasn't stupid enough to his emotions or those of others lead him astray.A look at how Yuri Plisetski learned to want more from life than just victory.





	1. Winning is Also Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Yuri is only fifteen in the first chapter which means he is still a child. Nothing remotely romantic will happen between him and anyone until he is older.
> 
> French translation is "Shut it,", Thank to Evok for helping with the translation.

"I'm free to be the greatest, I'm alive  
I'm free to be the greatest here tonight, the greatest  
The greatest, the greatest alive  
The greatest, the greatest alive"

-"Greatest", Sia

 

     The silver medal around his neck felt worse than being slapped. Yuri had been in top form, only to have been beaten by that arrogant Canadian prick. The venue was large and the tall windows let the moonlight fall in and cast its shadows. At least Canada was pretty. On the other hand its star skater left so much to be desired. The arrogance that JJ possessed lit a fire in Yuri’s soul. One day he would crush JJ and it would be perfect, a victory so beautiful nothing would take that happiness from him. If only that day had been today. Fate had not been on Yuri’s side. For once he wished that the universe would toss him a bone.

     For all of his childhood and teens Yuri had fought. First he fought to get people to notice them. Then he fought to win so that he could provide his grandpa with a good life. When he had battled Yuuri Katsuki for Victor, it was then that he realized that some things weren’t fighting for or against. The way Yuuri and Victor looked at each other was too genuine. In what had been the most selfless act of his life, Yuri had left Hasetsu without a fuss. Then he threw himself into training. Somedays after practice there was blood running down his feet and bruises littering his body. It didn’t bother Yuri much, he was used to some pain. What he wasn’t used to was losing. Honestly he didn’t even bother to do it with grace or tact. When he lost, he let himself be bitter and angry. Yuri had poured blood, sweat, and tears into his programs and he had been beaten by an idiot who called himself a king. In the end it would make things more fun, watching the JJ get dethroned would be a thing of beauty.

     Softly spoken French caught his attention as he packed away the rest of his things before leaving the venue. With a trained ear he listened to the soft voice and gentle words. It had been so long since he had heard someone speak his mother’s language. Though his mother had abandoned him, the memories of her singing French lullabies still sat like an unwelcome ghost at the back of his mind. Turning, he looked for the source and then the moment was immediately over. JJ was talking to his mother, the words they were whispering were sweet. Scowling, Yuri listened closely. The two were talking about the other skaters, who posed a threat. A smirk crossed Yuri’s features when he heard his own name mentioned. Nathalie Leroy mentioned that Yuri was the only one who managed to even somewhat keep up with her son. A little bit of pride swelled in his chest. He hoped that his free skate had lit a fire under JJ’s ass. When Yakov collected Yuri, they strolled past JJ and his mother. Cocking his head to the side, he caught the older boy’s eye and smirked.

     “Bonne nuit, JJ.” Without looking back, Yuri stepped out the door into the Canadian cold.

     On his home turf in Russia, Yuri was determined to not only crush the competition but to decimate it. For the most part he did. After his short program Yuri was confident he could win gold even with his fall. Skating to the edge of the rink he was about to step off the ice when JJ came into his line of sight. Though Yuri was poised and graceful, he wanted nothing more than to slap that silly little smirk off JJ’s face.

     “Oh sorry Chaton, ladies first.” JJ dipped into a falsely polite bow and Yuri nearly lunged at him. Grandpa wasn’t there and there wasn’t a bit of patience left in him. Before he could react Lilia, was snapping at him. Taking a deep breath he exited the rink and breezed past JJ, chin raised high. Be beautiful Lilia had told him, Have pride. So he did. Yuri let himself be the beautiful boy, he often tried not to be. Someday JJ would regret all the times he had insulted or taunted him. Even if today was not that day.

     Makkachin was not well. That was only reason Yuri was even being remotely civil towards Yuuri Katsuki. Though he held a general dislike for canines, Yuri Plisetski was an animal lover. There had been many times Victor had brought Makkachin by the rink to be showered in love and affection by the other skaters. Yuri would be lying if he said Makkachin wasn’t his favorite dog. The giant Poodle had a habit of turning him soft. So Yuri let his insults slip away to the background as Yakov attempted to coach Yuuri Katsuki. Still he needed an outlet for all his pent up energy. So when JJ skated by them and let out a whistle and murmured chaton under his breath, Yuri lost what little of his patience he had left.

     “Ferme la,” Yuri growled at JJ. There was a sudden twinkle in the older boy’s eye as he skated back around to Yuri. Leaning against the wall of the rink, JJ smirked.

     “Didn’t know you spoke French Chaton. Where’d you pick that up at?” JJ asked him, this time in English. Snorting, Yuri pulled his right arm across his chest and stretched his sore right arm.

     “My mother,” He answered without hesitation. It was unusual for Yuri to relinquish information about his family, much less his mother. Anyone other than his grandpa held no place in Yuri’s heart.

     “It would be interesting to meet the woman who gave birth to you Plisetski. How come I haven’t seen her around?” Yuri narrowed his eyes at JJ. The pinch between his brows grew and Yakov had started paying attention to their conversation.

     “She is as good as dead,” Yuri answered before skating off across the ice.

     Once again Yuri had lost to JJ and he had actually felt sorry of Yuuri. There had even been a moment when he didn’t allow his competitive nature to take over and had provided the Japanese man with some comfort food. That was something they had in common, binge eating to deal with stress. The major difference between them was that Yuri’s young body burned the calories faster. Back at the hotel he was dipping his feet into the hot tub when he heard _the laugh_. If there was one thing JJ was known for it was his charisma and charming laugh. Yuri thought the young man had neither of these. JJ made people like him and Yuri...well he didn’t really want anyone to like him. Yuri wanted people to be in awe of his talents. Talent should always outshine a person’s personality. JJ managed to have a handle on both which meant that his ego was getting too big for his body.

     Exhaustion had settled deep in Yuri’s bones. During his performance he had pushed far too hard. The hot water of the hotel’s hot tub was calling to him like a siren song. Despite that he didn’t allow anything more than his feet and calves to dangle in the water. It would have likely lulled him to sleep in mere minutes. For once Yakov and Lilia had left him alone, sensing that Yuri needed time to himself. Contrary to popular belief, Yuri was painfully introverted. Interacting with too many people left him with no energy and irritable. Skating competitions left him feeling more like a zombie than a person. As his coaches, Yakov and Lilia knew when to leave well enough alone. Tipping his head back, Yuri let his thoughts drift to the uncertainty he was feeling. Gold was always within his grip, so why couldn’t he achieve it? After his free skate Yuri had been close to vomiting he had pushed so hard. It had been Agape once again, of that he was certain. The entire time he had been too angry, too off center to portray it effectively. That was his downfall, love didn’t come easily for him like it did for people like Yuuri.

     Unconditional love was not something he had much experience with. Grandpa had been the only person to give him that. At seven, his mother had given away custody of him to his grandpa. The woman didn’t want him after his father had left. For years Yuri had struggled with abandonment until he realized it wasn’t worth his time. Even though he lived on his own, Grandpa was only a phone call away. Apathy or anger were what he chose to portray to the world. The Russian Punk was a nickname he bore with a sense of pride. At fifteen most of the competition didn’t even bother to talk to him; they saw him as untouchable. That meant little to no distractions from his skating, and he was just fine with that. That didn’t mean that Yuri didn’t struggle with certain aspects of life that should have been normal. Things like being touched or being praised. They both left him overwhelmed and unreasonably uncomfortable. All of the things most people saw as comfort were undeniably Yuri’s worst nightmare.

     After a while the door to the pool area swung open. Yuri didn’t crack an eye open. Laid against the pool deck with his feet still in the water, he was content. Then the surface of the water rippled around his legs. With sluggish movements, Yuri sat up and glowered at JJ. Of course the idiot would be the one to disturb his peace. To his surprise, JJ didn’t say anything. In that moment Yuri observed him closely. Fatigue was evident on the other boy as much as it was on Yuri. Head rested against the side of the tub, JJ’s blue eyes were fluttering in effort to stay awake. With a graceful movement Yuri splashed water in JJ’s direction.

     “Don’t fall asleep,” Yuri growled and cocked his head to the side, “You have to be alive for me to beat you at the Grand Prix.” JJ gave a genuine chuckle and leaned forward. The normal cockiness JJ exuded was absent and in its stead was quiet confidence.

     “You suddenly find your heart chaton?” JJ spoke rather quietly. Yuri scoffed and took a deep breath. It was times like this he was reminded of why he disliked the company of pretty much everyone. Hair fell in his eyes uncontrolled and curled from where it had been braided and from the pool’s humidity. It did enough to hide his eyes. Yuri was confident in his physical abilities but his emotional ones were failing.

     “No, I just can’t wait to watch fail miserably in Barcelona.” The venom he had intended to put behind the words was lacking, but they seemed to have done the trick because JJ was laughing. The vulnerability Yuri had was easily forgotten.

     “You know I never thought I would meet another fifteen year old as bitter as my little sister but you have managed to prove me wrong.” JJ slid deeper into the water and let his hands skim the surface.

     “She skates,” Yuri commented offhandedly. He remembered the humble yet fierce young woman with eyes much softer than her brother’s. She had won gold the same year Yuri had in the Junior division. Startled JJ looked up him. For the most part Yuri didn’t bother to learn other skaters’ names but Camilla Leroy had caught his attention. Unlike JJ, she skated with quiet grace.

     “You have siblings Plisetski?” JJ asked.

     “Victor would be the closest thing to a sibling that I have,” He answered before fully thinking it through. JJ cocked a brow at the answer. “Never repeat that to anyone,” Yuri added as an afterthought.

     After a while Yuri decided to dunk the rest of his body into the water. Muscles relaxed and said their thanks as he settled against the bench.

     “So if your mom isn’t around who looks after you?” JJ asked out of the blue. Yuri grimaced and sent JJ a rather nasty look. Taking a deep breath he brushed off the comment. He preferred people not realize how he had struggled.

     “Until recently I lived alone, my own apartment near the rink. As a condition of my training I now live with my coaches.” Yuri felt a certain smugness as JJ’s expression grew shocked.

     “That sounds awful lonely chaton,” He said and flicked his gaze across Yuri. Laughing, Yuri gently moved the water with his hand.

     “Being alone is just fine with me. I don’t need anyone getting in the way of my training. People are a distraction, one I don’t need. People who require love or constant attention are doomed to fail.” It was a fact of life he had learned young, too young maybe. JJ’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed.

     “I hope that someday you find someone to prove you wrong Plisetski.” Once more Yuri laughed and pulled himself out of the water, the heat finally getting to him. Walking to where his towel lay, he smirked at JJ.

     “Never.” Turning his back to the other skater, he made his way to the door. “Bonne nuit JJ, see you in Barcelona.”

     Gold felt nothing like Yuri had expected it to. The medal was light against the tips of his fingers. It had been through pure unadulterated spite that he had achieved the medal. He had done it to spite Victor, to spite Yuuri, and to spite JJ. In the course of two days he had set a new world record and won the Grand Prix. It felt good. Yuri felt powerful. The amount of blood and tears he had poured into the last eight months had come to fruition. At the same time Yuri felt drained. After his performance tonight he had nothing left to give. As he stepped off the podium, his legs wobbled. To his surprise, JJ gripped his forearm and held him steady. In defeat JJ was more humble than he had ever been in victory. What a twist of fate. Too exhausted to voice his discomfort, Yuri allowed it and was surprised when he found reassurance in the touch.

     “You skated beautifully chaton,” JJ murmured before releasing his arm. Yuri couldn’t find the words to challenge his  rival, so he instead dipped his head in silent thanks. Yuri had won gold but he decided he wanted something more than just victory. What that was he didn’t have the slightest clue.

    

      


	2. Time Moves and So Do We

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean could honestly say that he hadn’t expected to be shorter than Yuri but when he strolled into the Canadian rink towering over him, he went a little weak in the knees. It seemed that puberty had finally taken over and the young man had shot up seemingly overnight. At nineteen Yuri was a thing of beauty and Jean had watched him grow.

     Jean could honestly say that he hadn’t expected to be shorter than Yuri but when he strolled into the Canadian rink towering over him, he went a little weak in the knees. It seemed that puberty had finally taken over and the young man had shot up seemingly overnight. At nineteen Yuri was a thing of beauty and Jean had watched him grow. The elegance he had always possessed was still there, just more defined. It was in corded muscles and defined cheek bones. It was in the intelligent jade eyes that followed everyone, observing and taking note. Yuri Plisetski had not looked like this the last time Jean had saw him; Yuri had been lithe and still getting used to his growing limbs. Time had shaped him into a beautiful young man. One that Jean was happy he got to see.

     Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki were trailing behind their student the way one might a small child. The two had taken over the Russian’s training when Yakov had retired, though he suspected Katsuki was there more for moral support. Yuri was to train in Canada in the off season. Apparently his coaches had wanted somewhere their student could practice without being hounded by the Russian media. The news was still fresh in Jeans mind. **_Gold medalist Yuri Plisetski gay._** Most of the skaters knew and none of them really cared, Yuri’s talent overshadowed anything else about him. He had been outed by a small time journalist that had nothing better to do than follow the Russian around until he had gotten the money shot. Jean hadn’t thought twice about the photo of Yuri kissing another man. It clearly had been a private moment, one that had been captured on film and sent out into the world. It had been a scandal. The political climate in Russia was volatile surrounding gay rights; in Canada it was a normal way of life. If you were gay, marriage was a right you simply had. Even though the media had tried to rip him to shreds, Jean had watched Yuri face up to it with brilliant grace if not brutal apathy. A few sponsors had dropped him, but the ones that stayed made it clear they didn’t care. In the back of his mind Jean was glad that the Nikiforovs had seen fit to get Yuri out of Russia for a time, if only for his mental health.

     “Bonjour Yuri,” Jean smiled as he spoke, skating over to the blond. Yuri cracked a small smile at him, but there was a pained emptiness behind it. It was then that Jean noticed the bags under Yuri’s eyes and the slouch in his normally impeccable posture. Victor murmured something in Yuri’s ear before walking towards Jeans parents.

     “Bonjour JJ,” Yuri replied. The French words rolled off his tongue as comfortably as Russian or English. When Yuri spoke in French his voice was softer, had less bite. Though it seemed that Yuri had little bite to give him at the moment. There was a tiredness Jean had never seen Yuri have before, deep and settled in his bones. For a moment he wondered why the Nikiforovs had decided on Canada instead of Japan where Katsuki’s family was.

     “How are you finding Canada chaton?” Jean asked him and leaned against the railing. For once Yuri didn’t react to the other man’s closeness. Peering out the window, Yuri squinted . There was annoyance painted across his elegant features.

     “It is too bright during the day,” Yuri grumbled, “The sun reflects everything and it makes the city glow. The night here is wonderful though, I’ve never seen a city so wonderful at night.” Of course Yuri would be a night owl. Smiling, Jean leaned into a stretch of his lower back.

     “Let me take you out tonight,” He offered, “I can show you what some of the things that make this city beautiful. You’ll be here for a while after all,” To his surprise Yuri nodded in agreement before sliding the guards off his skates, the light reflecting brilliantly off the blades. Then with practiced grace, he slid onto the ice. All the tension seemed to leave the blond boy’s shoulders. On the ice Yuri Plisetski was the king, Jean could give him that.

     The bar was secluded and quiet, only locals milled about. Yuri settled across from Jean, beer in hand.  It was the first time they had truly spent time together outside skating. Dressed in simple jeans and a worn tee-shirt Yuri looked surprisingly relaxed.

     “Please tell me we don’t have to watch a hockey game,” Yuri grumbled and sipped his beer, “I deal with those meatheads enough since Mila dates a new one each month.” That made Jean chuckle. Hockey season didn’t start until October shortly before the first few events in the Grand Prix series.

     “No need to worry, you’re safe for tonight.” Yuri sighed in relief and fixed the messy ponytail that spilled over his shoulders. It had been four years since Yuri had beaten Jean, having lost to Katsuki the following year. Now Yuri Plisetski was gunning for Victor’s five consecutive wins having taken gold in 2018 and 2019. If Yuri could pull out another show stopping performance this year that would make three straight wins. Yuri was constantly setting records, two of which Jean had broken only for Yuri to set another. It was a constant struggle for power, one that the two enjoyed. They were still fierce rivals, but time and maturity had dulled it into something more civil.

     The night went on and they made small talk, until Yuri ordered them both shots of tequila. With a motion that was far to practiced, Yuri downed the shot. The burn of tequila mixed with salt was pleasant. Jean liked drinking, alcohol calmed him. Yuri on the other hand seemed to get wound tighter, like a bow string waiting for release. They were deep in conversation about Victor’s poor decision making when Yuri paled, eyes traveling to the TV screen behind Jean’s head. Turning, Jean looked at the screen. The infamous kissing photo was there and enlarged. A few patrons even looked over at Yuri making the connection. Yuri down his second shot quickly after that.

     “Do you want to leave?” Jean asked softly. For a moment the old Yuri was back, eyes narrowed in defense. It was something Jean had figured out about the blond. Yuri was not violent or even confrontational until he felt backed into a corner by something.

     “Does it bother you?” Yuri questioned, voice a mere hiss. Jean laughed and raised his glass to Yuri.

     “No, it doesn’t bother me that you like men.” Jean knocked back his shot, “I myself enjoy the company of a man every now and then.” He had never seen Yuri Plisetski look so surprised.

     “Really, you?” There was that condescending tone Jean had missed. Gone was the vicious scowl and its wake was a cautious curiosity.

     “Chaton, I don’t limit my pleasure to one gender. I enjoy both equally. Intimacy is something to be savored and cherished,” Jean explained keeping his voice teasing rather than overly confident. Yuri snorted and switched from alcohol to water. It was apparent that he had a system to his drinking.

     “I like men and men alone,” Yuri told him quietly as if admitting it for the first time. Then it occurred to Jean that maybe he was saying it for the first time. That maybe Yuri had never had the freedom to say such things in his own country. “Though I still don’t think I’ve ever truly found pleasure in another person’s company. Intimacy makes me uncomfortable.” It had to be the alcohol loosening Yuri’s lips because Jean had never heard him be so open before.

     “You should explore what intimacy is to you,” Jean stated as gently as possible without moving into flirtatious territory, “It doesn’t have to be just sex.” Yuri looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. It was almost as if the concept was completely foreign.

     “Sensuality and sex are the most intimate things you can achieve. I can portray it just fine on the ice, but off it is a different story” Jean laughed and sent Yuri an appraising look. So much for no flirting.

     “Yuri intimacy is about trust. You can give your body to any number of people without letting them see your soul,” Jean told him. This wasn’t a time to be cocky; with Yuri being so honest, Jean felt himself wanting to do the same. He had known for years that Yuri was a bit broken. Over time he had learned that the Russian had little love or kindness shown to him. Yuri strayed away from reassuring touches or gently spoken words. Yuri Plisetski was a series of well-crafted walls and masks that protected him from the world, from forming connections.

     As they were leaving the bar Jean noticed the sway in Yuri’s step and the deepness of his breaths. Though his speech was clear, Yuri Plisetski was drunk. Jean reached out and steadied Yuri with a gentle hand pressed between his shoulder blades. Together they walked and took in the sounds of the city, duller now that night had fallen. The lights of the city scape reflected off of tall windows and cast lovely shadows around them.

     “I’m surprised you didn’t deny it,” Jean said suddenly surprising both of them. Yuri stopped in his tracks and glowered at Jean.

     “No point in denying it if it’s true,” Yuri answered him, “Reputation isn’t everything,” It was said like a mantra, one spoken often and in the dead of night. It was mind boggling to think someone would risk Yuri’s life by outing him. It happened to athletes all around the world but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

     “You should be proud, keep your chin in the air like always. Not many people have the balls to do what you did. If it counts for anything my mom was cheering for you during the press conference.” A soft and timid smile appeared on Yuri’s face. Jean let himself feel a little satisfaction at that. There was something precious about something so vulnerable. It was something that he could get used to seeing.

     The next morning the click and flash of cameras greeted Jean when he got to the rink. Journalists were near the doors, the staff doing their best to keep them at bay. Dread lowered its way into Jean’s gut. The spotlight was something he loved, but the cameras weren’t there for him. With silent determination, he made his way to the door.

     “JJ what is Yuri Plisetski doing here?” One reporter asked. A flash.

     “What is your opinion of his recent coming out?” Another asked. Turning to the camera, Jean flashed his famous smile and tried to burry some of the fury he felt bubbling in his throat.

     “Yuri Plisetski is training in Canada in the off season for a change of pace. Both of his coaches have released a statement regarding their temporary move to Canada. That is all I will say on the matter,” Jean told the reporters. Nathalie gripped her son’s shoulder and looked into the crowd of reporters.

     “Please respect the skaters’ privacy. The rink is their sanctuary as well as their training ground.” Nathalie opened the door to the rink and shot one of the staff members a look. “If any of them get inside call the police,” She said quietly. Jean silently thanked his mother for her words. He could dazzle people but Nathalie was a master of dealing with media. There was likely to be more in the following weeks.

     The way Yuri was skating was not his normal graceful movements; instead it was littered with aggression and anxiety. More often than not he was flubbing even easy jumps and his footwork was sloppy. Jean cringed as Yuri fell hard and let out a grunt of pain. In an instant, the blond was back on his feet. The long wavy locks were piled atop his head in a messy bun. Large eyes looked tired and frustrated. Yuuri Katsuki was calling out quiet words of encouragement and Victor was pensive. After one more failed jump Victor clapped his hands together to get Yuri’s attention.

     “Cool down Yuri, that’s enough for the day.” Without a word the blond skated to the edge of the ice and stepped off. Blood, there was blood running down Yuri’s palm. The blond quickly pressed his palm to the black shirt he was wearing and darted towards the locker room. With a simple nod from his mother, Jean followed close behind.

     Yuri was stood at the lockers, hand wrapped tight in the black shirt.

     “Need bandages?” Jean asked. There was a trembled in Yuri’s spine and his chest rose and fell quickly. An anxiety attack was on the horizon. The thing was Jean understood; he had suffered from both panic and anxiety attacks since he was a child. It wasn’t until his twenties that Jean had learned to control it. Opening his locker, he pulled out gauze a medical tape. With gentle hands he steered Yuri to sit down on the bench. It was clear that Yuri’s hand had caught on the blade of his skate; it happened when skaters didn’t wear gloves. It was a careless injury that should have been easily prevented. Instead of saying anything Jean wrapped the wound and secured the tape. Tears dripped onto the sweats Yuri was wearing and Jean looked up. With his lip pulled between his teeth, nose wrinkled, and eyes squinched shut Yuri looked like a kid again.

     “Can I touch you?” Jean asked before initiating further contact. Jade eyes blinked open and Yuri shot him a withering look.

     “You’ve never asked before,” He bit out but nodded in agreement.

     With slow and assertive movements, Jean sat down against the bench and pulled Yuri back against his chest. Even though he was tall, Yuri was still lithe. Resting his chin on Yuri’s shoulder, he let the young man sob in his arms. The rapid rise and fall of Yuri’s chest was too familiar. Reaching up, he ran a hand over the beautiful blond locks atop Yuri’s head.

     “Deep breaths,” Jean coaxed gently. Slowly but surely, Yuri relaxed into the touches. It surprised Jean when he fully leaned back against his chest.

     “You ever tell anyone I cried in front of you, I will end your life in the worst way you could imagine.” Yuri wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. Jean laughed and pressed his palm to the top of Yuri’s head, letting it linger.

     “Wouldn’t dream of it chaton,”

     After that things got easier around the rink. Yuri started skating with confidence again. There was weightlessness to his jumps but the anger was still there. It was a Friday night when Jean invited Yuri over for dinner. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Victor sending Yuuri a look. To everyone’s surprise Yuri said yes. The two made small talk on the way over to the house but Yuri seemed to be in good spirits. When Jean pushed open the door, there was a flash of grey and then Rose was rubbing against Yuri’s legs. An audible gasp left the Russian’s mouth and within seconds, he was on the ground rubbing the cat’s ears. Jean looked down at the two and smiled. Of course Yuri would be a cat person.

     “Hello sweet girl,” Yuri’s voice took on an impossibly sweet tone as he pet Rose. The cat didn’t like many people, reserving love for Jean and his mother. Yet Rose was showering Yuri in unrequited affection.

     “What do you want for dinner chaton,” Jean asked as he made his way to the kitchen, setting down his bag. Yuri looked up from Rose and blinked at Jean in surprise.

     “You don’t have to cook,” Yuri replied quietly. That was something Jean had noticed about the Russian. The young man rarely ate and when he did the portions were small and nothing ever went to waste.

     “Nonsense,” Jean brushed him off. There was a noise of protest rising in the back of Yuri’s throat that Jean silenced with a pointed look.

     “Whatever you cook is fine with me,” Yuri sighed in defeat, “But I will do the dishes and you have to let me buy you a drink the next time we go out.” Jean wasn’t sure that Yuri realized what he said. For him to offer to go out was rare enough, much less with Jean.

     “It’s a date.” Jean winked at him. The reaction Yuri had was priceless, like a cat being dumped into water. The young man’s shoulders bunched up and his brows pinched together. With a chuckle, Jean went back to the stove and smiled.

     They ate a dinner of mashed potatoes and chicken alfredo to recover some of the energy they had lost in practice. Yuri’s plate had been cleared and he was sitting back in his chair, eyes sparkling with happiness.

     “So I’ve been meaning to ask, where is your partner? Did he not come with you to Canada?” Jean questioned. It was selfish, but he wanted to know. The nerves were suddenly slamming back into Yuri’s body.

     “I don’t have one,” Yuri explained and kept his voice even and deadly. That honestly surprised Jean, the man Yuri had been kissing in the photo had appeared rather close with him. Sensing Jean’s confusion, Yuri elaborated. “I don’t date, it’s a waste of time.” Little Yuri Plisetski was saying the same words as he had all those years ago but this time with a different tone. It was bitter and maybe a bit heartbroken.

     “So you just have sex and leave them?” Jean asked and Yuri sputtered in his chair. The mere mention of sex made Yuri blush like a schoolgirl.

     “I don’t have sex either!” Yuri exclaimed and shoved his bangs out of his eyes, “Like I said, intimacy makes me uncomfortable. Being kissed is alright, I just hate the idea of anything else.” That raised a number of questions.

     Yuri treated flirting like a challenge or just simply ignored it. Jean on the other hand liked the dance. It was fun to sit somewhere between friends and lovers. It was always interesting to watch how a partner would slowly open up. Yuri was the first person he had encountered who blatantly refused to give in or give back. So Jean was giving, teasing the young man and trying to coax a reaction out of him. It was clear that Yuri wouldn’t be easy to woo, but Jean had a feeling that it would be worth it in the end. If there was one thing he knew it was that Yuri couldn’t resist a challenge when he saw one. So Jean would give him a challenge, one he couldn’t ignore.

     As Yuri tugged on his jacket, Jean wrapped his fingers around Yuri’s bicep and pulled him against his chest. Yuri gave him the signature glare. In response, Jean leaned in and pressed their lips together. Yuri didn’t fight him and surprising kissed back. It was slow and soft in a way that Jean hadn’t expected. Then an elegant hand reached up and cupped his cheek. Teeth dragged against his bottom lip as they partlyed. Green eyes burned with something Jean hadn’t seen before. Smirking, Jean pressed another quick kiss to Yuri’s lips before opening the door.

     “Goodnight chaton,” Yuri snorted and walked into the hall. Before he left, the little Russian turned back and sent Jean a glare.

     “You ever kiss me again, I will slap you.” Things would be interesting indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for such wonderful support! I love hearing from you all!
> 
> -Avery


	3. Yuri On a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re smirking Yuri.” JJ told him and Yuri scowled. The hand on his back drifted when another man got too close, brushing along his hipbone. Making a split second decision, he entered JJ’s space. Sliding in front of him, Yuri’s back pressed against the front of JJ’s body. Downing his next shot Yuri leaned against the older man’s chest, head falling back against JJ’s shoulder.  
>  “What can I say, I’m enjoying myself. Are you?” There was a shaky breath against Yuri’s neck, enough to get him to snort. JJ leaned forward to whisper in Yuri’s ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting the 9th my posting schedule is going to be changing. My day job is a science teacher so my work load will be back to full pretty quick. I will try and post ever other day at 9 P.M. EST.

            “I have a problem and I need you to fix it,” Yuri grumbled into his phone. Otabek snorted from the other end of the line but said nothing to silence the younger skater. Yuri was drunk and filled with doubt. “I did something stupid,” He tried to voice all the concerns in one all-encompassing statement. There was a shuffling and then Otabek sighed.

            “I find that hard to believe.” The thing about Otabek was he thought the sun shined out Yuri’s ass regardless of what he did, so it was sometimes hard to convey his strife. Nervously Yuri switched the phone to his opposite ear.

            “I kissed JJ,” Yuri blurted out, “Well he kissed me and then I kissed back and there was some teeth,” The words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them. The line went silent for a few seconds before his best friend finally managed to collect himself.

            “Did you like it?” Otabek asked. Yuri’s face flashed red and he buried his face in his hands.

            “Beka!” Yuri sounded more scandalized than anything. The reassuring sound of Otabek’s tinkling laugher filled his ears. It served to immediately soothe the young Russian from further embarrassment.

            “Sounds like you did,” Otabek said softly, “You know that liking something, like a kiss isn’t the end of the world right?” The words were weighed heavy with the past. Leaning back against large pillows, Yuri took a deep breath and tried to still his heart. When those photos had come out, Otabek had been by his side. Even flying to Russia so that Yuri had someone to hide behind. The older man had been nothing but supportive, something that Yuri would be eternally grateful for.

            “I know that!” Yuri growled and rolled onto his stomach. “That’s not the problem Beka. JJ calls me chaton, kitten, and I don’t bother to correct him. When he kissed me, it didn’t feel empty. It didn’t feel like I was an afterthought or momentary distraction. It made me feel warm and wanted. I hated it,” He explained the best he could. Attraction and sex were something Yuri fundamentally understood; there had been a couple times in his skating career he had chosen those as his themes, but he had never truly felt it before now. Not for lack of trying.

            “Yuri, I’m hurt. You think our kiss was empty?” Otabek teased. The kiss between them had been experimental and then a running joke between them. Neither one of them was interested in anything other than friendship but it served as a fond memory between the two. Otabek Altin was Yuri Plisetski’s platonic soulmate; the two shared everything. It was only right that Otabek be his first kiss.

            “Laugh it up,” Yuri muttered but had a smile plastered across his face.

            “The only thing I can say to you is just do what feels right. If you don’t like something, leave or say no. If you’re enjoying it, keep going. It’s pretty simple.” Otabek told him in his soft and reassuring way.

            “Yeah yeah, I got it,” Yuri paused for a moment before continuing, “Thank you Beka, I miss you more and more every day.” The two ended their conversation with quiet goodbyes and comforting I love you’s. Suddenly the world didn’t feel like it was swallowing him whole. Do what felt right, Yuri could do that.

            Turns out what felt right meant turning JJ’s flirtation into an outright competition, neither contestant willing to break first. This meant that the coaches of the two skaters were unbelievably annoyed. After a while Yuri found he enjoyed JJ chasing him. If the king broke down and begged then he would concede victory. Until then he taunted and teased in a way that only he could. The ice was their main battle ground, their fierce rivalry flaring up like it used to. Unkind words on the ice turned into dangerous words spoken in locker rooms. Every once in a while there was a bold touch to accompany it. JJ was testing the waters, of that Yuri was certain. Whether it was a hand brushing against his own or fingers trailing down his spine, he found that JJ’s touch wasn’t unwelcome. On the contrary it made things interesting.

            Yuri was skating figure eights around JJ, the lines indented into the ice. The two of them were bantering back and forth when Yuri made the first move.

            “How about we go out for a drink tonight?” Yuri smirked. JJ flashed his winning smile and skidded to a halt.

            “Chaton, did you just ask me on a date?” JJ smirked and Yuri wanted nothing more than to wipe that look off his face. With ease he sailed into a triple flip.

            “I don’t date,” Yuri reiterated, “Mostly I want to see your cat again.” He had invited himself over to JJs apartment, the offer open. The words had their desired effect and JJ’s eyebrows shot up. On the side of the rink Victor slammed his palm into the center of his forehead, a red mark appeared on pale skin. If anyone was wounded by Yuri’s flirtation it was his coaches.

            “It’s a deal.” JJ skated passed him and grazed Yuri’s hipbone with the tips of his fingers. A slight flush settled across his skin, suddenly everything felt too hot. This was attraction, finally Yuri understood.

            Canada was a country that Yuri loved to hate. The people were too nice and the city was warm. At night it was beautiful. The buildings took the night sky and captured it in windows and glass doorways like an ever changing painting.  The hand JJ had on his back was firm and steady, a constant reminder of what they were doing. Yuri pretended it didn’t distract him from the calmness of the night. In reality there was heat crawling its way up his spine. JJ didn’t say anything and instead lead them through the city scape in silence. It was odd the way the older man didn’t speak and let his actions speak for themself. Otabek had given Yuri the pep talk of a lifetime before he had gone out. Relax and just let things happen, repeated the words over and over in his mind. When they reached the bar JJ’s hand dipped lower, more possessive.

            Inside they ordered their drinks and Yuri leaned against the bar, eye surveying the crowd. After a month in Canada he was still getting used to the difference in culture. People were more open, genuine in their expressionism. Tonight Yuri didn’t even bother with beer and skipped straight to hard liquor. Luckily JJ had had chosen Vodka. That was the drink of his people, Yuri drank it down like water. Liquor held a special place in Yuri’s heart. As an introvert it made him bold. Anger was something he knew well and he was confident enough on the ice, but off it he was too soft spoken.

            “You’re smirking Yuri.” JJ told him and Yuri scowled.  The hand on his back drifted when another man got too close, brushing along his hipbone. Making a split second decision, he entered JJ’s space. Sliding in front of him, Yuri’s back pressed against the front of JJ’s body. Downing his next shot Yuri leaned against the older man’s chest, head falling back against JJ’s shoulder.

            “What can I say, I’m enjoying myself. Are you?” There was a shaky breath against Yuri’s neck, enough to get him to snort. JJ leaned forward to whisper in Yuri’s ear.

            “More than you know Chaton.” The fingertips against his hips had morphed into a firm grip. The pressure was simply there, an offer much like the one Yuri had given in the rink. It was open. Apparently despite what he had originally thought, JJ was letting Yuri lead them tonight.

            After their third drink Yuri lead them to the exit. The liquor had done nothing more than get him buzzed, a pleasant warmness at the back of his mind. They trailed side by side on the walk to JJ’s apartment.  Hand in hand they made their way through the complex. Yuri allowed JJ to pull him. The red door swung open and Rose immediately wrapped herself around his legs. Bending down, he scratched the cat behind the ears, murmuring soft words of affection to her. When he looked up, Yuri was surprised to see a hunger in JJ’s eyes. Throwing caution to the wind, Yuri place both his hands on JJ’s hips and stood to his full height. It was a small but satisfying detail that he had ended up three inches taller than the Canadian skater.

            “It’s your move Leroy,” Yuri taunted. JJ smiled at him, it was free of its usually charm and instead was playful. Hands wound their way into his hair, gentle but insistent.  The touch demanded his attention. Leaning in, JJ kissed the corner of his mouth. A simple thing that was meant to question. _Is_ this alright? With a grin on his face Yuri pressed their lips together.

            Unlike their first kiss, this one was hungry. It was sloppy. It was amazingly good. With an unhurried movement, Yuri swiped his tongue across JJ’s lips. With an insistent movement, the older man pressed Yuri against the wall. Confident that Yuri was on board, he let his hands wander a bit more. When his head lulled to the side JJ trailed open mouth kisses against Yuri’s neck. Yuri understood now what it meant to melt under someone else’s control. Weak at the knees, he moaned as JJ bit at a sensitive point between his collarbone and neck. Teeth and moderate pressure had his head spinning. Tugging at the brow locks, Yuri forced JJ back up to his mouth. Though he was less experienced, Yuri made sure to set a pace that rivaled what the older skater was used to. In the end JJ was panting against him as they parted for breath.

            “Looks like I win,” Yuri muttered against JJ’s neck, a grin danced across his lips. A snort left JJ like it had been retched out of him. Within a single movement Yuri’s entire world shifted. Hands curled around his thighs and his was lifted off the ground, back leaning against the wall.

            “You sure about that Chaton?” It was a struggle as it often was between them. A push for power that neither one was willing to relinquish. Despite his insistence on apathy, Yuri let out a satisfied groan.

            When JJ kissed him Yuri expected overwhelming dominance. Instead it was slow, an unhurried coaxing. With gentle force, JJ overpowered the kiss. The way he savored each press of their lips had Yuri hesitating. What was the feeling at the back of his mind? Arousal, most certainly. Yet it was more than that. Everything was too gentle and far too warm, it settled deep in Yuri’s bones. There was nothing like it. It rubbed against Yuri’s skin like sandpaper. He had done nothing to deserve such a kindness. When JJ pulled away, his face was flushed.

            “And that Yuri Plisetski, is how you really kiss.” There was a glint in JJ’s eyes that had Yuri squirming. Like the kiss, it was overwhelmingly soft. It was clear that they had traveled from playful flirting and competitive roughness into more intimate territory. Sensing Yuri’s discomfort, JJ lowered him to the ground. “Now you and I are going to watch a movie and eat lots of food, a proper date experience. Then I am going to drive you home and you’re going to get a good night’s rest,” JJ spoke as if his word was law.

            “Huh?” Yuri growled. Using his confusion as a distraction, JJ maneuvered Yuri over to the couch. Rose soon joined him, curling up in his lap. Somehow JJ had managed to actually get him on date.

            “We aren’t doing anything else tonight. We’ve been drinking.” Was the idiot really worried about Yuri’s consent? He had figured that having his tongue in JJ’s mouth had been enough. Before he could voice his opinion on the matter, JJ flopped down next to him. Long arms snaked around his waist and pulled him back against JJ’s chest. Rose chirped at both of them in disapproval, unhappy to have been moved. JJ soothed her by running a hand over her grey fur. The older man was intoxicatingly warm. With a sigh, he settled in and just decided to roll with everything that was happening.

            They ended up watching a cheesy B-rate horror film. It was Yuri’s favorite genre, even though he would never admit that JJ had him pegged. Long fingers wound their way through his hair, gentle and reverent. Occasionally soft lips would trail his neck, pressing butterfly light kisses to the skin. When the film was done, JJ kept his word and drove him back to the apartment he shared with the Nikiforovs. When Yuri was walking up the steps JJ kissed him one last time and the playfulness was back.

            “Goodnight chaton,” JJ murmured against his lips. Yuri looked into the older man’s ocean eyes and cocked a soft smile.

            “Goodnight Jean,” It was the first time he had ever called him anything other than JJ or shithead.  Jean noticed and returned Yuri’s smile with one of his own. Breaking apart, the two went their separate ways.  Maybe a date wasn’t the worst thing after all.

            Yuuri was sitting on the couch, his feet propped up on Victor’s lap. The two of them were painfully in sync, their heads turning to look at him.

            “Did you have a good night?” Yuuri asked him. The Japanese man had a way of speaking that made his voice sound like it was smiling. After their fierce competition on the ice, the two had actually become quite close. Victor and Yuuri were his family, all of them a little broken in their own ways. Draping his jacket over the arm of the couch, he wiggled in next to Yuuri, legs resting atop Victor’s legs right beside the Japanese man’s.

            “It was…educational,” Yuri offered them. Victor tipped his head back and burst into the laughter. It was familiar and soothing to hear his mentor laugh so freely.

            “I gathered that much from the rather impressive hickey on the side of your neck,” Victor giggled. Yuri slapped a hand over the side of his neck and sputtered. Fingers tugged his hand away; Yuuri leaned over and stared at the mark.

            “Wow,” Was all Yuuri Katsuki could manage to say before he started laughing alongside his husband. A brilliant blush slammed into Yuri’s cheeks and leveled a glare at both of them.

            “First I am going to kill JJ, and then I am coming for the both of you!” He hissed but there was no bite to his words, though he was serious about killing Jean. Where did he get off leaving marks where anyone could see them? Yuuri in an attempt to placate the blond pulled him into a tight side hug. The strong arm wrapped around his waist had the desired effect and he relaxed.

            “In the end I always knew you’d end up dating someone like JJ. It was fate that you end up with someone as pigheaded as you,” Victor taunted. Snorting, Yuri rolled his eyes.

            “You’re one to talk. You flew to Japan after a pining after a drunken mess for months simply because there was video of him skating your routine. That same drunken mess didn’t even remember your first interaction, so you don’t get to tease me for going out for drinks with JJ. At least I still have my wits about me.” The whole Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki debacle really warped what traditional romance meant.  They had been barely tolerable back then, sending wistful glances at each other. Now they were outright insufferable.

            Telling the Nikiforovs goodnight, Yuri slid into his bedroom and took a deep breath. Reaching up he brushed his fingertips over his lips. It was startling, how good he felt. At the same time he felt more fragile than he ever had. For Yuri it was easy to get rough and move fast, that meant that he didn’t have to think. Yet when Jean had lead him slowly, letting him feel, it had been entirely too good. Sliding his shirt off, Yuri stepped in front of the floor length mirror next to his closet. Sure enough there was a purple mark at the edge of his throat. Growling, Yuri picked up his phone and took a quick snap of the mark. He texted the photo to Jean with a rather distinct message, **_you’re dead._** Not waiting for a reply, Yuri crawled into bed and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are ever in need of a measure of how drunk you are I suggest writing while shit faced and editing your drunken dribble the next day. It's an incredibly enlightening experience.
> 
> Once again I would like to say thank you for all the continued support. I will try and have the next chapter up by tomorrow at around 2 P.M EST.
> 
> I love hearing from you all  
> -Avery


	4. In between a Rock and a Hard Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t understand why you won’t just fuck me,” Yuri sounded surprisingly insecure behind all the venom.

            Jean has always had a heart of glass; that never stopped him from taking risks, even if they were a source of anxiety. Yuri Plisetski has always been strong, unbreakable and unflinching in the face of hardship; the Russian treated life like it was his bitch and never took no for an answer. In their relationship however Yuri was constantly switching between excitement and utter anxiety. For three weeks Jean had been taking things slow and he could tell they had reached a tipping point. They had reached a point where Yuri was either incredibly frustrated or utterly desperate.

            “I don’t understand why you won’t just fuck me,” Yuri sounded surprisingly insecure behind all the venom. Jean was so surprised he dropped the glass he was holding in his hand. It shattered against the hardwood floor and he stared at the blond. To be honest he wanted to fuck Yuri. The young man was a sinful kisser and could move his body in ways that left little to the imagination. Despite that, Jean would not even think of having sex with him until a single question was answered.

            “Because that’s not the only thing I want from this relationship,” Jean said and his voice crackled in discontent. Yuri’s fierce eyes flickered over him. The intelligence and critical mind he possessed was sometimes a detriment. It was clear he had noticed Jean’s want as well as his hesitation. It was also clear that Yuri did not see that for Jean this was more than a fling. Somewhere in the back of that blond little head, Yuri had decided that this was a rejection. Half the time Yuri and Jean saw things so differently that it was like they weren’t even looking at the same thing. It was time for a rather frank talk with the younger man.

            Not bothering to clean up the mess in the kitchen, Jean slid onto the couch. With hesitation he reached out and gripped Yuri’s hand. Long and elegant finger traced over the skin of Jean’s palm nervously.

            “Yuri, what do you want this relationship to be?” All of Yuri’s well-crafted walls came back up in a matter of seconds. There was a disconnected look in his eyes. This was a topic that Yuri had consistently avoided. Intimacy did more that make him uncomfortable, it scared the living hell out of him. It was in the way Yuri’s body would tense when a kiss got too soft. It was in the way he would flinch away from Jean touching him in public. Deep down Jean knew some of it had to do with being raised in Russia where such things were a good way to get beat up or killed. The other part if was something that existed in Yuri’s past, a road block that had been erected over a number of years. Yuri didn’t answer his question and instead gave a half-hearted shrug. “If you want this to continue, you need to talk to me Yuri. I cannot be in a relationship with someone who isn’t willing to communicate with me. You’ve told me you don’t date. If you still feel that way, we can keep it casual. If you want more, all you need to do is ask. We can take it slow but I need to know.” The thing was Jean really wasn’t going to be okay if Yuri wanted things to be casual. Long gone were the days when he could deal with an empty bed after sharing his body with a lover the night before.

           Slowly Yuri curled in on himself. It was another thing that Jean had come to realize as a defense mechanism. There was frustration painted on Yuri’s features; he also looked skittish and ready to bolt at any given moment.

            “I don’t know,” Yuri spoke and his voice wavered. It was clear that he was being pulled in a million different directions and Jean was unsure of what to say to comfort Yuri. The hand intertwined with his trailed up his arm to rest against his neck. It shook slightly, the nerves getting the better of Yuri. “Growing up, I didn’t have…much. And I didn’t have a lot of role models for what a normal relationship should be. Victor and Yuuri didn’t really count because no one in the world has a relationship like theirs. I was also…neglected and abandoned early in my life, so I just don’t know? I want more but at the same time I just have some reservations about being in a relationship.” The words were the most candid thing Jean had ever heard Yuri say. They were spoken like the admission to a crime, like they weren’t important or valid reasons for concern. There were tears prickling at the corners of Yuri’s eyes. Jean cupped Yuri’s cheeks and placed a tender kiss to the tip of his nose. All he wanted was for Yuri to stay, so Jean would take whatever Yuri wanted to give him.

            “I can work with that,” Jean smiled, “Because I would really like to date you chaton.” A blush spread across Yuri’s cheeks. Even if Yuri was unsure, Jean knew what he wanted.

            For the next hour Jean let Yuri have some time to himself, keeping busy by making dinner. When arms wrapped around him, Jean started in surprise. Leaning his chin on Jean’s shoulder, Yuri took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. Out of all the kisses between them, it was by far the most intimate.

            “I’ve decided that I’m going to fucking date you against my better judgement,” Yuri said completely devoid of emotion, “But you have to let me have Sundays to myself or I’d end up killing you. I also require that you meet my grandpa the next time you’re in Russia.” Jean turned around in Yuri’s arms and smiled up at him. The terms and conditions of dating Yuri Plisetski were more than fair. Tilting his chin up, Jean pressed a chaste kiss to Yuri’s lips.

            “Alright.” He kissed the corner of Yuri’s full lips, “Now let go of me so I can finish up with dinner.” When he turned around, the Russian did the most surprising thing possible. A harsh slap was delivered to Jean’s ass. With a yelp, Jean spun around and stared incredulously at Yuri.

            “That was for the hickey and you will see more retaliation,” Yuri growled making his threat clear but there was a playful twinkle in his eye, “Leave a mark where people can see it again and you’ll end up in an early grave.” Jean was so startled by the arousal he felt that he immediately turned back to the stove, a blush creeping up his neck. For a moment he thought he heard Yuri snickering. So Yuri liked it rough, he could do rough. It would be interesting to see where that road could lead them to.

            When Yuri fell asleep on his chest, Jean took a photo. The hair piled atop the blond’s head was a bird’s nest and sticking out every which way.  The famous Plisetski scowl line between his brows was missing. Full lips were parted, sending gusts of hot air across his neck. Scrolling through his contacts, he reached his mother and sent the photo. Nathalie Leroy replied almost instantly, **happy?** To which Jean replied with a simple **yes**. At the buzz from his phone, a blurry eyed Yuri sat up and yawned. Hair spilling out of its bun and onto his shoulders. A small sliver of skin showed from where his sweater had shifted off his shoulder in his sleep. It was a rare and precious thing to see Yuri look so open and disheveled.

            “Chaton, do you know you’re an adorable when you’re asleep?” Yuri snorted at him and sent him a gentle glare. The sweater slipped farther of his shoulder. Jean allowed his eyes to trace Yuri’s elegant form.

            “Fuck you, I’m always adorable.” Jean teasingly showed him the photo and Yuri got surprisingly quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Are you going to post it?” Warning bells rang out across Jean’s mind, he hadn’t even considered putting the photo on the internet. There was a lot that was uncertain about Yuri’s future. Even if he had already been outed to the world. Jean was a bisexual man and he had never made a conscious effort to hide it. Over the years his love life had been well documented.

            “Yuri I wasn’t even planning on posting it.” The blond shushed him by yanking the phone out of his hand. Fingers clicking across the screen with practiced ease, Yuri navigated the screen. When he was done he placed the phone on the coffee table.

            “I don’t care,” Yuri told him and moved to sit fully on Jean’s lap. “That’s another condition of dating me, lots of pictures. You’re a narcissist so that shouldn’t be too hard.” A chuckle left his throat before Jean could stop it. If there was one thing Yuri loved to do, it was shock the world.

            Within a few minutes both of their phones started buzzing. Their lips were locked together and Yuri’s fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging insistently when Jean reached out to grab his phone.

            “Ignore it,” Yuri growled against his lips. How could he argue when Yuri was sitting in his lap and grinding their hips together in a slow sensual dance? Jean nearly passed out when he felt fingers playing with the edge of his tee-shirt. Leaning back, he tugged the article of clothing straight over his head. Tossing it across the room Jean tentatively placed his hands on Yuri’s hips, tracing soft patterns. It was a deciding moment, for all their kissing they had never removed any clothing.

            “Just take it off already!” Yuri grumbled but Jean could tell that some of his earlier nervousness was back. With a slow, confident movement he pulled off the thin grey sweater Yuri was wearing and then the Russian was bare for him to see. It was the black ink on Yuri’s ribs caught his attention first. All of the scrawling marks were dates; they matched up perfectly for every medal Yuri had ever won in the Grand Prix finals. Without hesitation Jean placed a kiss to Yuri’s ribs. It made him laugh that Yuri thought Jean was the narcissist. For a while they simply kissed and explored each other’s bodies with curious touches. Then it was like something clicked and the touches grew bolder. Hands dipped lower and kisses grew deeper. The breath in Jean’s lungs was sucked straight out of him when Yuri rolled hips, hands gripping his shoulders tight. A breathy moan left his lips before he could think to silence it. When Yuri moved to do it again, Jean held him down with a tight grip.

            “Chaton, I am not having sex with you on the couch.” Jean breathed against Yuri’s neck. The blond snorted but the sound was desperate.

            “Then I guess we should go to the bedroom,”

Epilogue

            The next day when the two showed up to practice covered in bite marks and smirks on their faces no one was surprised. Victor lectured Yuri, sounding almost too much like Yakov. Russia would be up in arms. Journalists would have a field day over the photo. Yuri could lose more sponsors. Competing against your significant other was hard. The words went in one ear and right out the other. When Victor was done, Yuri stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the him. Stunned, the older Russian returned it with a smile on his face.

            “Victor,” Yuri said, a tremor in his voice. The boy looked around the rink almost to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. “All those years ago when you forced me to agape, I never said thank you. At the time I didn’t understand it and I won anyways…Now, I think I understand it better.” Victor smiled and looked across the rink at the Canadian skater that had previously considered quite the asshat. The older Russian found himself thankful that Yuri Plisetski had found his agape, even if it was in the form of an arrogant and pigheaded man. Yuri was starting to understand what love was and that was something too beautiful for Victor to ruin. Suddenly Victor understood how Yakov must have felt when he kissed Yuuri in China all those years ago. Instantly he was thankful his hair was already silver, there would be no need to mask all the grey hairs Yuri Plisetski was going to give him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all done! Sorry for not posting this yesterday, I had to go into work for a bit and didn't have time to edit. 
> 
> I hope it meets all of your expectations. The positive responses have been overwhelming and I cannot thank you all enough.
> 
> It will be good to hear what you all think.  
> -Avery

**Author's Note:**

> The support I have been recieving has been really good inspiration to keep writing over the last couple of days. The YOI fandom is so amazing and I am happy to be a part of it.  
> Your feedback and kudos mean the world to me and are always welcome.
> 
> Happy new year,  
> Avery


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